


The Overlander

by Ravager_Zero



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravager_Zero/pseuds/Ravager_Zero
Summary: Elsa Vinter makes a chance connection on the Overland Express, but it seems Anna Christian always meant for it to work that way. [Elsanna, no incest]





	1. Chapter 1

If somebody told me this time last year I'd be sleeping with a girl I'm considering marrying, I probably would have said something incredibly scathing—then skulked off to think about how lonely I was. It's true though, I am considering marrying miss Christian. Of course, what I didn't know at the time was that she set the whole thing up. She's always been very cunning. Not as academic as I am, but very street smart. Savvy to complement my smarts, she likes to say.

So, this all starts about eight months ago, on the overland express. I'm travelling through Europe on an exchange program, Lofoten to Darmstadt, trading the beautiful islands of my home for the concrete jungle of Europe's greatest science center. I think maybe I'm not setting the scene very well, too much summary getting in here.

"You've got that right," and Anna—miss Christian—is leaning over my shoulder looking at my work. "Here, why don't you sound it out with me first. I like hearing your side. You keep the details so well."

"Alright then," I stretched out my arms and laced my fingers together. "But I'm putting in the fact you set me up from the start."

"Figured you would," she leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. "I deserve it."

She really does.

—∞—

I was on my way through Denmark when she boarded the train, sitting in the lounge car. It wasn't that full, but still she chose the seat opposite mine, so I had to pay attention. Close attention, because redheads have always been my weakness. Sonya and Hanne will tell you as much. She was wearing a dark green sundress that perfectly complemented her turquoise eyes. She kept her hair in twin braids, thrown behind her shoulders, and from the dress, apparently wasn't afraid to show some skin. Her lips parted as if she was about to speak, but something out the window suddenly caught her attention. She waved brightly then began rummaging in her bag.

I cursed inwardly, somehow knowing she was already taken. I was stupid, and shallow. It was a chocolate bar, one she ate with great gusto while somehow maintaining a great level of decorum. It was my turn to look away, embarrassed my mind had only thought of her in one way since seeing her. She whispered something, then cleared her throat.

"Hey, you want a bite?"

She was pointing the chocolate bar towards me. I just stared at her, not quite comprehending.

"Okay then." She shrugged and continued eating.

I looked down at her bag—not even a big rucksack, just a regular old backpack. I began to wonder if she'd just wandered out to stretch her legs at this stop. I was fairly sure I'd have noticed her before. So she was either travelling a short distance on the overlander, or she already had her own cabin. The latter brought with it a whole host of ideas—and problems. I didn't even know her name, but I got the distinct feeling that she'd sought me out specifically. Only a scattering of people in the afternoon. I figured it would be rude not to introduce myself.

"Elsa Vinter."

"Anna Christian."

And that was pretty much it—or so I thought, returning to my book. I got through another three chapters before it was time for dinner. But somehow, as I got up, I got horribly, horribly tangled with miss Christian's belongings. And body. I was lying on top of her, one hand against the floor of the carriage, the other squarely over her breast. I was expecting outrage, or at least embarrassment. I was not expecting a lasciviously suggestive wink.

"Like what you're feeling, miss Vinter?"

I scrambled back madly and sat cross-legged in the aisle, just staring at her. She looked at me as if to say nothing had happened. I knew what I'd heard. Too shocked to do anything else, I up and ran, leaving her on the floor of the train. Stopping to check my pockets brought me up short. Nothing was _missing_. There was something new. I took it out with some trepidation. It had a cabin number on it—and a time. Very late at night.

I stared at the time. Did she think I was just going to be some cheap fling? I almost threw the card out right then and there in a fit of pique, but ever since breaking up with Hanne I'd been desperately lonely. Maybe I needed a one night stand. It wasn't like she'd be staying on the train much longer afterwards anyway. Maybe I just wanted some company for a little while. Without realising it I'd already decided I was going to see her.

The sun was setting as the attendants served dinner in the dining car, red and gold line livery complementing the rich walnut and mahogany furniture. The overlander was, after all, a train to ride for the journey. It took days to travel, but that was part of the appeal; a sort of anachronism that remained healthily profitable for the rail company. There are always going to be nostalgic saps like me who are willing to pay a premium for an experience.

It was a fish dinner, seared salmon with a combination of summer vegetables and variety of breads to serve as an appetiser. A slightly unusual combination, but paired with a fine wine it was both delicious and memorable. The lights were on low for dessert, and she came to me then, a vision in a low-cut green sequinned evening gown. I had to squint slightly to make out the pattern—the sequins were sown into leaves and sunbursts, backed by a green silk so rich it was almost black. I felt more than a little underdressed in my suit, sans tie. I had a dinner jacket at least.

"I've never seen another woman fill out a suit quite so handsomely," she offered me her hand as she spoke. "May I have some of your time—and possibly dessert?"

I looked her up and down, trying to figure out what her game was. It was clear she was flirting with me now, but there was something behind those eyes, a spark of something deep and closely held. I rose and took her hand.

I cleared my throat before speaking. "Miss Christian, I—"

"Anna, please," she gave me a wink as we sat again.

"Alright then, Anna, I've been spending all this evening trying to figure out your game."

"You did get my card, right?" She seemed more than a little anxious about that. "I mean, I might have accidentally grabbed you a bit too, but I was just trying to find a damn pocket, okay?"

I was confused once again. I knew she'd put the card there, but in my embarrassment about accidentally fondling her breast I somehow hadn't felt her hands on mine.

"Please tell me I didn't manage to leave it on the floor or under the seat and some random shows up tonight thinking they're getting lucky—geez, I can't go through that again."

I stared at her, the words finally registering. "Wait, again?"

"Umm…" she bit her lip, staring at my wineglass.

"How long have you been on the train?"

"Since Stavanger," she looked out the window, her turn doing nothing to hide her subtle blush. "I saw you that first night, and, well… you were mysterious and alluring, only ever here, or sitting in the lounge in the afternoon. I figured you must be staying for the long haul to somewhere, so I decided to continue my journey past Copenhagen. Hey, don't give me that look, it's not like I'm stalking yo… oh, umm, I guess I kind of explained it badly."

My scowl could have melted steel. "Very."

"Okay, okay, yes, I did kind of set you up this afternoon—but I'm here to apologise for being underhanded about it. I've got such a girl-crush on you right now, and I don't know why, but I was hoping we could get some time together and learn about each other."

"In bed, if your card is anything to go by."

It was then that she face-palmed, realising the implications behind the time and the cabin number on the card. "Oh, yeah, I'm an idiot sometimes."

I gave her a gentle laugh, hoping it didn't seem too mocking. "You know, you're not making the best first impression you could be. Even if you are dressed to kill. Or at least injure."

She laughed brightly at that, a hint of confusion in her eyes. She turned back to me, a much more serious look on her face. "I–I just want to talk tonight. I–is–is that okay w–with you?"

Dammit, but that stammer was so _cute_. I almost hated myself for not answering right away, because she kept talking.

"I–I guess it's okay if you don't want to, or you w–want m–m–more like the card kinda says. It's kinda my fault that thi–this keeps happening to me."

I looked her up and down again, wondering where all the blustery confidence from this afternoon had gone. "Please," I reached over to press a finger against her lips. "Stop talking." I hated the sudden despair I saw in her eyes. "Just give me a moment to think, okay?"

She blinked and brightened up at that. "Hey, would you like me to pay for dessert?"

I frowned softly. "A moment, please; and you don't have to."

She was much quieter this time, picking up a menu—but not quickly enough to hide her blush; or that shy little smile. She thought she'd been successful. I was pretty sure that was what the smile was about. It wasn't smug though—that would've been a deal breaker. But this girl—this young woman—having the courage to finally up and just talk to me; wanting to talk to me, but offering me sex because that's what she'd accidentally promised? I was quite taken aback. Quite taken with her, too, if I was honest.

She put the menu down and took a cautious sip of my wine. I didn't complain, or even give her the _look_. I was still processing my feelings, and telling my libido to behave itself, because my eyes were starting to undress her behind that wonderfully low-cut gown, imagining all the places those freckles would descend to, imaging how soft her skin would be, what her lips would feel like, how strong her tongue might be. I turned away, embarrassed by my obvious lust.

Her hand somehow found mine across the table. "It's okay, miss Vinter," she smiled shyly at me as I turned around again. "I didn't wear this dress for people to ignore my body."

"And you're okay with me doing that?"

She smiled and blushed, looking me straight in the eye. "You think I haven't been imagining what you look like without that suit?"

_Well, fair's fair_. I looked at her again, inspired by the sudden resurgence of confidence she showed. "I hadn't given much thought to _what_ you might be thinking. I think that might be unfair of me."

"We could talk about fairness over dessert, if you like?"

"Okay, fine," I agreed with some reservation. "But we can split the bill, okay?"

"Okay. I'm getting a slice of the devil's gateau then. You?"

"Brandy snaps with mint chocolate ice-cream."

"Alcoholic." And she poked her tongue out at me.

"I'd say something about hips and chocolate, but… I like those hips." I'd been emboldened by her candour and humour. And maybe just a little by the wine.

"There's a lot of me to like," she smiled across at me. "And I hope you do. Not just my body either—though I'm okay with that. I want you to know _me_ , the real me."

"Well, I already know you talk a lot," she laughed at that, looking away bashfully. "And you're confident, even if you did need a bit of courage and cunning to get to me. Okay, don't get me wrong, the almost-stalking thing did throw me, but I can see now your intentions were good. I'm actually surprised I hadn't seen you before."

The waiter arrived with our desserts, and Anna dug in heartily, continuing the conversation as she ate. "I've been sort of hiding, getting out of a bad relationship, and just—any time I thought you might have seen me I kinda ran away. I know, I'm a chicken, but it took time to work up the courage to even sit next to you. I wasn't even sure I could arrange my bag right so you'd land on me."

I crunched my way through a brandy snap before replying. "You hid pretty well then." It took me a few more seconds to process everything else she'd said. "I hope it wasn't abusive."

She looked away, staring off into the dusky skyline out the window.

"Okay, I won't press you."

"Thank you." It was the most sincere I'd heard her sound all evening. There was a lot of relief in there too. "Can ask if you're seeing anyone right now—I don't want to make you unfaithful or anything, I—"

"I broke up with my last girlfriend a few months ago," I had a spoonful of ice-cream before continuing. "It just didn't work, we were going different places with our lives, and she was planning on a big OE anyway."

"Sorry."

"It's nobody's fault, it just… happens sometimes."

She didn't have a good reply—she tried a couple of times, then decided silence would be better. She was also demolishing the gateau at a rate of knots. There was also a spot of chocolate at the corner of her mouth that she hadn't noticed. I reached over with the serviette in my hands, and for just a split second she shied away before realising what I was going for. After dabbing the chocolate off her, I sat and looked away. I knew what that kind of movement meant. I knew my fists were balled in anger, and tension surged through my shoulders. How dare her ex do that. The bitch.

Our conversation continued haltingly through the rest of dessert, ending with me offering her half a brandy snap. She rose, looking as if she was about to bolt. I reached out to her, gently touching her hand, caressing her palm. I made her a promise I wouldn't soon forget.

"I'll come by later, like you wanted," there was a pause, and she looked back at me, not quite sure what was happening. "What happens then is your choice."

* * *

It was hard deciding what to wear, trying to keep my libido in check, and remove my makeup at the same time—I never wore much, just a bit of concealer or blush, and maybe some subtle eye shadow. Mascara too, if I wanted to be fancy. Right now I was in the tiny cubicle my cabin offered for washing up, cleaning off every trace of makeup as I showered. I managed to keep my hands from wandering too far, but a body needs to be clean.

Back in the main section of my cabin I looked at the clothes I'd set out. I decided on the ice blue chemise and briefs, slipping into them and psyching myself up for something that might be more than just two people meeting. Also, given that I'd be wandering the train late at night, I took the precaution of wearing a dressing gown—long, white, and gloriously warm and fluffy. I also slipped my phone into the gown's pocket. My hair was unbound, though still a little damp.

No one else was up, just the night conductor doing his rounds through the sleeper cars, and he gave me a knowing smile. I felt my cheeks flush. There was nothing I could have done to deny what he thought was about to happen, so I just returned the smile and continued on. I heard him chuckling softly behind me, muttering something about spring chickens. I paid it no further thought, arriving outside Anna's door without further incident. I'd barely knocked a second time before she dragged me inside and slammed the door shut.

"Huh, nice dressing gown. I guess it might be a bit cold out."

When I looked back at her, illuminated only by the cabin's reading lamp, she was climbing back under the covers of her bed.

"What?" she gave me a questioning look. "It's warmer in here."

"Because you're in there?" I was teasing her, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. It seemed like it was my turn to be the shy one.

"Well, m–maybe, if you want to sh–share with me."

"Maybe." I shifted a little to face her better, enjoying the way the light from the reading lamp seemed to sculpt her nose and cheeks. She really was very cute. "I'm here because you wanted me here, that's it."

"Oh, okay," she sounded a little disappointed. "Oh, oh… so, no pressure at all?"

"None," my hand found hers through the covers. "Just go as far as you're comfortable—and I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable."

"That sounds fair," and suddenly I was being pulled towards her by hands of quite surprising strength. "And I just want to like I you really know—wait, what?"

I laughed, maybe a little unfairly, at her sudden jumble of words. She was quite clearly missing a filter somewhere. Several, perhaps. She was looking up at me expectantly. I shrugged. "I got nothing."

She laughed, trying to slow herself down this time. "I just want you. To know. I really like you."

That I understood very well. I let her pull me down on top of her, over the covers. I just lay next to her for a moment, watching her as she watched me. Her turquoise eyes shone in the dim light, and her hair had turned into messy ringlets of copper. She pulled me into a tight hug and then quickly turned away, but I could feel the heat coming off her neck and shoulders.

"You don't have to hide it," I wrapped my arms protectively around her. "I'll stay here as long as you like."

She turned her head to face me, copper hair tangling with my own platinum tresses—and getting stuck up my nose. "Really?" She sounded so unsure I was absolutely shocked, any idea of a sneeze suddenly thrown out the window.

"Really," I assured her with a kiss on the cheek. "I get the feeling you haven't been intimate with anyone in a long time."

"Hey, I was willing to fu—"

"Stop," I kissed her again, on the cheek. "Intimacy doesn't always mean sex, okay?" She turned towards me, suddenly far more interested in what I was saying. "It's about something more than physical, it's about two people bonding, sharing, helping each other. It's about being vulnerable, and offering someone your heart even though you know they might break it. It's about being able to accept someone who wants to be close to you, and wanting to get close to them in turn."

She fixed me with a hard stare. "What you're describing, miss Vinter, sounds a lot more like love than just intimacy."

I gave her a sly look. "Maybe I'm just explaining it badly."

"Hey—oh." The look of dawning comprehension was breathtaking. "You weren't just talking about intimacy, were you—this is about you, right? And me?"

I turned my eyes away, studying the livery pattern embroidered on her duvet. "I made it pretty obvious, didn't I?"

"Well, a little bit," she conceded. "But why me?"

"I'll tell you the truth, but it might sting a little, okay?"

"I'd much rather a stinging truth than a soothing lie right now." I saw it in her eyes, more evidence of what her ex had done to her.

"I'm lonely. I don't know anyone around here. I don't even know if I'll be able to make any friends when I get to Darmstadt."

"I'm sure you'll be fine." She frowned, her brow furrowed in deep thought. "Hey, I think I have some relatives in Bonn. It wouldn't be too far to visit on weekends if you wanted."

It was my turn to be surprised and unsure. "Really?"

"Sure, why not, they're pretty welcoming folks. Rapunzel's like my first cousin twice removed or something, and I sort of knew Eugene at school."

I just stared at her. "Seriously, Rapunzel?"

"Like the story, yeah. But she grew up an orphan, so she couldn't really hate her parents that much. Her first step-mother though, she's got some horror stories."

"Who, the mother, or Rapunzel?"

"'punzie does. She _hated_ the bitch. Always on and on about her hair, getting tangled in it, leaving stray hairs on all the stuffy old furniture, trying to keep her locked in a room except for mealtimes. I'm not even sure she'd like me telling you this."

"I won't tell then," I gave her a wink.

"What happens in my cabin stays in my cabin?"

"If you want it that way."

"I–I… maybe. I don't know yet."

"Can I ask a possibly insensitive question?"

She gave me a warning look. "About what?"

"Sex."

She sighed heavily, pushing herself further from me. "Fine." It clearly wasn't.

"No, not like that—or yes, maybe, but not now. I wanted to ask what you wanted out of it. And maybe the last time you did it."

"Oh… oh, umm; that's a little more okay then," she shuffled closer, one arm wrapping around my shoulders. "I guess I want what most girls my age want—to get off, and good. I mean, I'd like to like the person too, but it doesn't have to be that way. And honestly, not counting what I did for that one desperate guy, it's been weeks."

"Only weeks?"

"Bit of a dry spell, okay, so sue me. I wanted to find someone."

"Nearly six months now," I couldn't help but laugh at her shocked gasp. "And life just keeps getting in my way."

"Okay, I honestly have no idea how you're not under these blankets tearing my clothes off right now."

"Respect, and self-control—though I probably would screw you senseless right now if you started flirting with me."

"Miss Vinter!" Her shocked gasp was quite put on. "Is that a warning or a promise?"

"Both?" I ventured, unsure quite how the night had taken that turn.

She looked at me with longing and trepidation, and her silence stretched out to fill volumes. I wasn't about to break the moment. Finally she turned to me and held me close, whispering in my ear. "Does it have to be tonight?"

I shook my head slowly, closing my eyes and holding her close. "No, no it doesn't."

"I'd like it if… if we could cuddle though." She lifted the covers, inviting me in. "I've been lonely too, maybe more than I want to admit. It'd be nice to… to just…"

She couldn't finish. I could hear her sobs as she tried to talk, wrapped in my arms, bundled against my gown under those covers. It had been so long for her, since anyone had loved her gently and warmly, she'd forgotten what it felt like. The comfort of being held in another's arms. My tears fell quietly in the night, knowing I could never let her go; never let the world try and chew her up like that again. We kissed in the dark, salty tears running down our cheeks and staining the pillows. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be truly loved by someone; I'd almost forgotten what it meant to truly love someone.

The night was dark, and full of tears, but somehow now they were happy tears, rejoicing in the fact we had found each other. We woke slowly, me before her, and as her eyes fluttered open I stole a kiss, holding her close. Her look of bewilderment quickly changed to one of hearty contentment. We spent the morning lying in her bed, talking—just talking. We learned so much. We agreed to meet in Bonn, a few weeks later.

—∞—

"I sometimes think it was Bonn that brought us together," I give my girlfriend a little smile. "But that was after. After you finally worked up the courage to talk to me even once. To get me to feel you up so you could plant that damn card on me."

"Yeah, it was fun in Bonn," Anna laughed brightly. "But you're right, the overlander was what started it all, baring ourselves to each other like that."

"There's one more thing."

It's a surprise—she doesn't know that all this time I still have something from our first night together. I know she'll appreciate it more today, given it's her birthday. Also given that we plan to ride the overlander again tomorrow, travelling back up to Lofoten for the winter holidays. I wait until she's not looking before I pull the card from my pocket. I flick it down on the floor in front of her. I can almost taste her surprise as she flips it over and reads it.

"Really?" she looks at me, happy tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "All this time?"

I nodded. "All this time. You think I'd forget something that important."

She smiles at me and shakes her head. "No. Not you."

I give her the same adoring smile. "It's also why I packed your suitcase for you."

She just laughs, the sound echoing gaily around the tiny student dorm. I love that laugh. I love _her_. I've already sounded her out, so I know she's likely to say yes, but she doesn't know exactly that I'm planning to propose to her on this trip back to Lofoten. She hasn't noticed my tiny post-script on the card yet. I'll pack it conveniently in her luggage. She'll see it when the time is right. I just hope I'll have enough time to fish the ring out while she's processing that.

We'll see.


	2. Chapter 2

So, this is sort of a memoir I'm writing—oh, no, nothing horrible has happened, just that kind of thing people write as a retrospective on their lives. I'm getting in early though. I'm only 27. She's 24, and the love of my life. We've been married five years now—umm, spoilers, I guess? for the story I'm about to tell. So, this is about how I proposed to her, thinking I'd been masterfully stealthy about it—only to have her shock me with a proposal of her own. In retrospect it was hilarious, and endearing.

"Hey, that looks like _my_ kind of rambling tale." And there she is.

"Thanks, you," I turn to kiss her as she leans over my shoulder. "I guess it _is_ a bit scattered."

"A _bit_ —Elsa, you're underselling yourself. Again," that's Anna. "But I gotta say, I think this one's gonna be more fun than the last one, if that nigh—"

"I am _not_ putting my sex life on display in this memoir, thank you very much."

"Prude." But she kisses me again anyway. "I guess mine will just have to be a lesbian sex guide then."

"ANNA!"

"Hah!" She swings me around to face her. "I knew that would get a reaction. But c'mon, you gotta spice it up at least a little. Maybe show them some foreplay."

"You really think…"

She's smiling, shaking her head at me. "Well, at least in the special edition you give me—and only me—a signed copy of with _those_ pictures on the jacket…"

"You are enjoying this far too much, you sun-kissed little imp."

"Oh, so my tan is noticeable then?"

"Only because you haven't bothered putting your bra back on." I leave a pregnant pause. "Since yesterday."

"I didn't hear you complaining about it yesterday…"

"You were also helping me rather… actively… yesterday, as I recall."

"'helping', Elsa, really?" She's just staring at me. "That's the best innuendo you've got?"

"I am trying to write something here, my brain's a little more focused than yours."

"You're right," she finally relented. "I should actually try and help you with this. It might be good to tell a bit from my side."

"In _my_ memoir?" I give her a look of mock indignation.

"Well, then, you have to put in the pillow talk afterwards." I'm not actually opposed to that—it's not going to reveal anything I want to keep private.

"Okay, compromise accepted." I smile up at her. And now she's sitting in my lap, half naked. "And just how do you expect me to work like this?"

"Dictation mode, silly. Just talk about it. We can edit later."

—∞—

We were taking the overlander back to Lofoten—like I've said, I'm kind of sentimental about these old style rail journeys, where the journey is half the fun. It was going to take several days to get from Darmstadt to Lofoten, but neither of us minded. We didn't mind the small cabin we would be sharing either. The line called it 'princess' class, a sleeper with a double bed and a mini-wardrobe opposite the bathroom. My fingertips only just touched the opposite walls.

Anna's fingers twined with mine, slowly bringing my arms back down. "So, have we got everything now?"

"I think so," I pulled her into a quick hug, then started taking a few things from my suitcase for the wardrobe. "We've got a little space in the wardrobe at least."

"I think it'd be a bit—oh, you just mean for the clothes."

I gave her a long suffering look. "Every time; is that all you can think about?"

"Elsa, you _know_ I can't go as long without as you can. Also, we both know I _am_ , in fact, that bold."

I sighed, looking out the window. It was still just the platform at Darmstadt Hauptbahnhof. "As much as I enjoy your company—clothed or otherwise—I would like to enjoy some of the scenery on my way home."

"Spoilsport. Prude. Stinker." She'd knocked me back against the bed before I realised what was happening. She leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "Later."

She stood back up, smiling far too politely. I really couldn't say anything. I sat up slowly, a little saddened at how quickly her smile vanished. She actually looked concerned.

"I didn't go to far, did I?" She was subtly wringing her hands. A clear sign she was actually worried.

I smiled for her. "Let's just say I wasn't really ready for that."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense." She gave me a searching look—and I'm sure she was also undressing me with her eyes a little. "So what do we do until lunch?"

My turn to smile far too politely. "Well I've got a couple of new books here."

She pouted.

"Which could always wait until later."

She smiled. I helped her put a few things in our mini-wardrobe. For now jeans and t-shirts were fine, because the cabin was pretty well heated. I grabbed a jumper from my suitcase anyway. Anna grabbed a light jacket from hers, and as she did, my little note fell out. She tucked it back down the side of her suitcase automatically. _So much for that plan_. I had wanted her to find that note early, so I could spring the surprise on her, grab the ring from my bag, and be ready before she could finish reading it all. Then I'd just have to wait for an answer.

We walked hand-in-hand to the lounge car, sitting next to each other beside one of the windows. Still just showing the Darmstadt Hauptbahnhof. I was glad for the jumper though, wriggling away from Anna just long enough to pull it on. She leaned against me, playing with the turtleneck collar. She played with the pattern knitted into the sleeves and chest as well, fingers tracing the woollen strands. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I was glad that we were the only ones here right now.

Anna didn't stop tracing those patterns, even when some guy sat at the other end of the car. It was enough to make me uncomfortable, even if he looked pretty in to whatever it was he was reading. My hand found Anna's and held it gently, forcing her to stop. I pointed surreptitiously to the guy with my free hand. She stopped playing with my jumper. Instead I could feel her arm around my waist. I could also feel her head resting on my shoulder, and hear what sounded suspiciously like some light snoring.

_How late were you up packing last night?_

I'd helped her to pack. She should have been ready. But I also know she likes to take extras, and remembers random stuff at the last minute. Or maybe she'd packed a few things she didn't want me to see. Given her libido, it's not like I'd scold her for bringing one—or two—along for herself. It's also possible she just didn't want to argue with me about it. Or hadn't even packed them, and was up late doing something else. Playing silly phone games, most likely.

I have to admit it was nice, just lounging around with her dozing against my shoulder. She mumbled something as the train started to move, but didn't wake. I shifted slightly to get more comfortable—my arm was falling asleep—but I didn't much feel like moving. I just wished I could grab my book. Or phone. But she was leaning against my left side, and being a lefty… yeah. In the end I just leaned my head against hers, noting the flowery scent of the shampoo she'd been using, and then I tried to rest.

My mind, of course, had other ideas. Trying to find ways to plant that little note so Anna would 'accidentally' find it. Thinking of ways we might celebrate afterwards. Also thinking idly about dinner, and what to wear out of the limited wardrobe I'd packed for myself. Wondering what Anna might wear, and considering maybe that was the surprise she'd been trying to hide from me by staying up late. I looked at my watch, but it was only getting close to eleven.

We were also about halfway to Kassel, passing through the Vogelsberg Oberwald, snowcapped peaks to the left, alternating forest and farmland to the right. It's not like the cliffs and fjords at home, but it's still beautiful. It's enough to make me a little homesick too, and that's another reason we're heading to Lofoten for the holidays. Plenty of reasons to head home during the longer winter holidays, actually. I still wish my parents were one of them… it's been three years—Anna knows about it—but that doesn't mean it stops hurting.

But having Anna here, softly snoring while she's half-hugging me, helps fill some of that void. She's also told me that my manners and gentleness have really helped her too. When we first met, I'd gotten hints that her ex was abusive. He was. He was also a terrifyingly smart con-man and confidence trickster. Anna didn't talk about it much, but I knew enough to make the connections. We're both in a better place now. Healthier. I'd like to say fitter, too, but I know she'd take that as a come on.

I managed to doze for a little while, until the train pulled into the station at Kassel. I heard an odd snort from beside me, then weird dinosaur-like groans as Anna yawned and stretched. I pulled my arm out from behind her, trying to massage away the pins and needles currently stabbing into me. Okay, I did kind of regret not extricating myself earlier, but she just looked so peaceful.

"We're going to be here for about an hour, did you want to step out for lunch?" It was always good to have options.

"And have you miss a chance to get dressed up for lunch?" She poked her tongue at me.

"Suit and tie then?"

"Oh please, I'm gonna rock this gloriously chic sundress with cleavage down to my… well, you get the idea. Can't say too much with such prudes around."

I facepalmed. "Just because I'm a little reserved and old fashioned, you don't have to mock me for it at every turn."

"I know I shouldn't," she looked chagrined. "But maybe there's something I'm nervous about."

I wondered then if maybe her late night antics had been _because_ she had seen that card. She couldn't know exactly _when_ , of course, but there was a fairly short window for her to figure it out. I smiled for her, rising to head back to our cabin.

"I'll change first, unless you really want to play 'contortionist twister' again."

She gave it some thought, that's for sure. "It's tempting, but I'll pass. Also means I can keep my dress secret a little longer."

"Meet you in the dining car then?"

"I'm going to be waiting outside that door so I can ogle you in that suit, you know."

"And after you do, I should get us a good seat, right?"

I could see several emotions flit across her face. Trepidation and excitement were quite clear. "Please. And maybe order a drink for us."

I changed first, and as I was changing I fished the note out of Anna's suitcase and stuck it very obviously under one corner. I decided on one of my finer selections—of the two I'd packed for the trip—navy blue woollen slacks, a baby blue blouse, and a double-breasted dark navy jacket. I knew Anna liked all those things—and what they went on to. I also changed to a push-up bra, and left the top button of my blouse undone. Fine if she wanted to ogle, and if I blushed for her, well, maybe for the better.

I heard her swallow as I left our cabin. I leaned in close, letting her see down my blouse. Let her have a taste of her own medicine. "I can do it with just one button."

She let out a couple of short breaths, almost like she was psyching herself up for something. She took a more even breath, her eyes level with mine again. "I—you—beautifuller dress-shirt today what am I saying?!"

"That I look nice," I gave her a light slap on the backside. "And that's for calling me 'fuller'." I stuck out my tongue so she'd know I didn't mean it.

She ducked quickly behind the door, and even before it was closed I heard her throwing things out of her suitcase. I figured it would be just my luck for her to accidentally cover the note with a pair of briefs or something. In the end I might have to resort to just _giving_ it to her. Or planting it on her the same way she planted it on me when we first met.

The station at Kassel's not much to look at, really. It would have been nice to have had a more picturesque backdrop for lunch, then again, I had a feeling my eyes were far more likely to be watching something other than the landscape. Or my food. I was right. I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned, looking over my shoulder. Then the rest of me turned because I had to take it all in. She hadn't been lying about the cleavage either, putting what she had to good use. Good enough to make me swallow and for my throat to go dry. It hugged her curves like a second skin, and the sheer panels around her decolletage and shoulders did nothing to distract from that. The material was so sheer I could actually see some of her glorious freckles.

Like the first dress I had seen her in, it was green, but that had been so rich as to be almost black. This was a dark forest green, strong, without being too bold, accenting her eyes, and setting off her hair perfectly. Hair she'd taken the time to twist into braided chignon, secured with what looked like hairpins made of amber. I blinked, watching as she walked over, eyeing the riding slit up her left thigh. Almost dangerously high up her thigh. I swallowed again.

She laughed softly as she sat down. "It's like you've never seen me in a dress before."

"You look amazing."

"Thank you," she was smiling at me. "I have to say I like that you left your hair down. I don't see you like that enough."

"Thanks," I was smiling, but possibly at the wrong place. I felt a finger lift my chin.

"Eyes up here," then she leaned in really close, letting me see down her dress anyway. It _had_ to be intentional. She only whispered the next part. "At least, for now, that is."

A waiter politely ahem'd next to our table. "Would the _frauleins_ care to order?"

"We would, thank you," Anna turned to face the waiter. "I'll take hmm… this pasta thing looks interesting. I'll have that. Elsa, you?"

"Something lighter, I think. The toasted BLT."

The waiter left us to our own devices after informing us there would be a wait of 10-15 for the food. I figured we had time to kill, and a lot to talk about. Anna, as it turned out, had a very different idea of what we should be discussing. It started with her opening the little clutch beside her—I hadn't seen it at all, being too preoccupied with the rest of her. The other thing I saw was her taking a very deep breath, steadying hands that had developed an uncharacteristic shake. It wasn't like her to be this nervous around me. Or anyone.

"So… I… I know recently… you've kind of hinted that… or—no, you have. I'm sure… sure of that much. I think I know… you really want us to be closer. A… a lot closer. And it's kind of scary—so that's why I'm nervous right now—but it's also amazing, and I so want to. I so want _you_. For as long as forever. Oh… wait… the thing…" she slowed down considerably, rummaging in her clutch.

Her hand came up with an unmistakeable sign. I knew, because one of those was sitting in my luggage. Except I'd chosen a dark crimson for hers. I knew the words she was about to say. Also, it would be just like her to do this over lunch, breaking with all sorts of tradition. Only then did my brain catch up to my body and my scattered emotions as to what this meant. I was on the verge of full blown panic when I realised.

"Elsa Vinter…" she was almost holding her breath. "Will you… will you… marry me?"

The panic caught up to me at the wrong moment. "Oh, no…" I know the look of distress I had to have been wearing wouldn't have helped either. Now she looked like she was on the verge of tears, or panic, or just plain dumbstruck.

"No?" And for a moment I hated myself so intensely for doing this to her that I wanted to die. I could see the tears gathering in her eyes. I knew the effort—emotional and otherwise—she had to have put into this. I'd managed to destroy it in about two seconds flat.

"No. Wrong… wait…" The words wouldn't come out right. I was only making things worse.

She sniffled. "It's not a no?"

"No—yes. I can't… I want to… I have to show you." I stood and grabbed her by the wrist. "Show you why." I felt like an _idiot_. Something just wasn't working in my head at that point. Completely blindsided, and still knocked off balance because she'd offered me everything I'd ever wanted, and somehow I'd said _no_.

I all but ran to our cabin, Anna barely keeping pace behind me. I didn't want to turn and see those tears. I wanted to kiss them all away—but right now, a tiny rational part of my brain that still worked, told me it would be the worst thing I could do. Instead, holding her hand so tight I was afraid I was crushing it, I led her into our cabin. I knelt down and unzipped her suitcase. I'll never forget that sudden look of betrayal.

I handed her the note.

I'll also never forget how that look turned to one of wonder—I don't want to. I dived into my suitcase, fishing around frantically for the little jewellery box. Yes! I turned to see her just staring at the note. I made a noise and held up my hands, sitting contritely on the floor in front of her. It was suddenly so quiet I could hear her tears finally fall. I looked up. I looked up into the most ridiculous, beatific, self-deprecating and joyous smile I had ever seen.

I missed the hint of mischief in her eyes.

"No…" but it was so long and drawn out. So, so drawn out in incredulity I just knew she had to be acting.

She fell on top of me, pitching me all over our luggage, the bed, and a bit of the wall. I rubbed my elbow and she laughed. We stayed sprawled like that for a while. There was a lot of kissing. I may have had to refasten some buttons that came mysteriously undone.

"You really do mean it?" she asked after we sat up. Each of us rearranged our hair somewhat.

"I wanted to say yes, but you just caught me so off-guard, and then when I realised my own plan had been torpedoed harder than the _Bismarck_ …"

"…you panicked. And almost walked me into the cabin door—you know, I'm meant to be the clumsy, high-energy one here."

"Yes, well, you _do_ resemble that remark."

"Hey!"

I thought about everything we'd just done. Or not done. We'd not so much as looked at each other's rings. I facepalmed. "I just realised we never even looked at the rings. Do you want to make it official, here, just us, and we can be fiancés?"

"No," she shook her head slowly. "I want witnesses. Jealous ones—because who plans on rings for both parties, right?"

"So we're going to turn this disaster around over lunch?"

"Oh, no… this is going to be dessert—well, technically you're going to be dessert, but I'd like some fancy ice-cream and maybe stealing some of your brandy snaps again."

"Over dinner then?"

"I'm sure you had some amazingly elaborate plan. I'd kind of like to see it before I blew it to smithereens right in front of your face."

"I don't deserve you."

* * *

Dinner, and after hashing out our plan—or most of it—during the afternoon, we'd both dressed to kill. Luckily, it was an evening for full formal attire in the dining car. The theme was the Roaring Forties. We weren't going to disappoint. We had also known about this evening well before boarding the train, and prepared appropriately. I had thought it would be the ideal time, but I digress.

I was wearing a classic three-piece suit, much like what I'd dressed up in for lunch. Very much lighter though. Ivory dress trousers. A press-white blouse, long sleeves, one hidden pocket. A mahogany stained leather belt, silver buckle. A silk tie, ice blue, with rosemaled snowflakes in white at the tip; Anna had bought it for me some time back, and this seemed like a most appropriate time to wear it. Over all of that was an off-white waistcoat in a very conservative cut.

Anna was much, much bolder, wearing a bold evening dress that showed off a lot of skin, and almost all her freckles. It was a mermaid style dress, not green this time, but a shade of turquoise that almost perfectly matched her eyes. As she moved I saw the colour shift, and I had to blink. There was a subtle iridescence to the fabric, shifting it slightly to the green or blue side of its true colour. It was one of the nicest dresses I remember us picking together.

I looked her in the eyes, not at all embarrassed to have had my eyes wandering—I actually remembered her saying something about that when we first met. I also managed to see her earrings, which looked like emerald, and a fine gold chain around her neck from which hung a lightning bolt. There was a joke about all her energy in there somewhere, but I wasn't going to make it. Humour was normally her suit anyway.

"So," I looked to a table, thinking about her usual appetite. "Dinner first?"

She looked around, noticing the open space at the far end of the dining car, and the vintage music coming through the speakers. "One dance?"

I held out my hand. "I thought you'd never ask."

It's hard to dance with energy in such a small space without hitting walls, tables, or other people. Very hard. I was glad Anna had placed my jacket over a nearby seat before we started. I also felt like the other dancers had seen her antics before. That, or they recognised her exuberant energy. I did not, however, expect to have my toes stepped on quite so much. Work boots would have helped. The spin was just me showing off, catching Anna in my arms as she fell back at the end of it.

I also didn't expect the quiet round of applause. I hadn't thought anyone else would be watching—they'd be too busy dancing themselves. I blushed as Anna tipped me over for a quick bow.

"Thank you, thank you; we're here 'til Thursday." There was a round of laughter at that—it was Saturday evening, and a beautiful non-sequitur.

She turned back to me, breath still a little short. "I think you can take me to dinner now."

"Good," I kissed her on the cheek. "Because my feet are killing me."

"Sorry," she seemed ashamed of something. "I never really could dance properly."

"It's something we can work on together, if you really want." She flopped into the seat opposite me as I sat carefully, stretching my legs in front of me.

"I'm going to have to," she smiled, her cheeks flushed. She whispered the next part. "Especially for our wedding."

We talked idly over dinner, basically stalling between each of us for the big reveal, which we both knew had to be during dessert. There were no sweet nothings—because witnesses—and we kind of just re-hashed a lot of stuff we'd talked about before. Our lives, school, uni, work. Family stuff. I know the conversation bored her, but I also knew she was trying so very hard not to burst with excited energy. I knew, because I felt exactly the same. It seemed to take much longer than usual to get to dessert.

We both reached down and prepared our little jewellery boxes, setting them just next to us, ostensibly hidden by our purses or clutch. Anyone looking from beside us wouldn't know. Someone behind me would assume it was me. Anyone behind Anna would assume it was her. She pointed to a suddenly quiet couple behind me. I saw two singles behind her lose interest in their own conversations. We smiled.

"Elsa Vinter…" she lifted her jewellery box from behind her clutch. Gasps came from the singles watching us.

"Anna Christian…" I reached behind my purse, opening my box for her. A quiet breath from behind me.

"Would you…" she opened her box. A few more people were looking at us now.

"…make me…" it was like the entire world was on mute. Even the rail noise seemed subdued.

"…the happiest…" so many people were watching it was getting uncomfortable. But I had promised her.

"…person…" time seemed to be drawing out, each moment longer than the last.

"…in the world?" We hadn't practised it like this, but my nerves, and her drive to say everything right had done it. We'd said every word in perfect sync.

"You already have." I saw the surprise in her eyes.

We hadn't practised that one. We didn't actually plan on anything to say after our proposals. And being lost in thought for that instant I missed the sudden coiling of her muscles, ready to spring. Really, given her boundless energy, I should have known. I was on the floor, my chair overturned behind me, and an exuberant redhead pressing her chest into mine and almost crushing me with her hug.

"Yes," she was hugging me so tightly, a tremor in her voice. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Every day. Umm… sorry I hugged you so hard."

"No," I wiped away a happy tear. "You're not. You don't have to be. I love all of you—well, maybe not the stepping on my toes while dancing part…"

She laughed, helping me to my feet. There was a mix of applause over the proposal, and some disingenuous mutterings about indecorous behaviour for young women. I didn't care. I had the rest of our lives together to look forward to.

We adjusted various items of clothing, then took out our rings. She went first, showing me a sterling silver band with a woven geometric design that seemed to have definite nordic influences. The gem was something I'd never seen before, a rich, almost electric blue, with subtle flashes of green deep inside when the light caught it just right. It was set in a snowflake arrangement with eighteen much smaller gems. Aquamarines. I held my finger up and turned it in the light.

The refraction made it seem like it was snowing crystal flakes on my finger.

I took the ring I had chosen and placed it on Anna's finger. The band was gold, thin, but set as a double ring. The setting was simple, subdued and practical—so I knew she'd be able to wear it at work, or wherever she went. I knew that was something important to her. A moderately large emerald sat in the centre, flanked by two smaller gems. A double row of six tiny peridots worked around the bands, away from the setting. She'd told me long ago that she liked emeralds, and the peridots just helped set the colour off more. She stared at the ring for what seemed like a long time.

She put her hand down, smiling at me. "I hope you didn't plan on sleeping that much tonight."

_No_. But I didn't say it. I figured we would just sleep through the morning, and then, when we finally woke up—with her appetite hopefully sated—we could start planning the rest of our lives. Together.

—∞—

"Hey, you didn't put in our pillow talk!" I pull my wife down to my level to kiss her. She's actually on top of me on the bed. We found some other advantages to dictation mode.

"I think closing it there just feels nicer."

"You promised…" she's pouting.

"Tell me, what did our pillow talk add to our story?"

"Oh…" she's remembering it properly now. "Oh, yes… we didn't talk about our proposal at all, did we?"

"No, we didn't," I pull her all the way down, on top of me. I've always like the way our bodies fit together. "But I think that's a story for another time."


End file.
